Metal heart
by migraineSky
Summary: Tony Stark arrives in Toronto the way it is in “Repo men” . Story line for Remy is alternative from the movie, Remy still continues to be a repo man after heart surgery. Remy’s scanner reports Tony’s chestplate as an overdue heart.


Colorful flashing lights, neon logos and snow white smiles on enormous plasma screens appeared only to vanish instantly in a blur behind the windshield. Remy was driving home. Well, to be honest, it's not _his_ home; just some small apartment he recently moved into. Home is where the heart is they say, but he doesn't really have a heart either, as he sometimes thinks. Some retro music was playing through the car speakers – music of the old days when people believed that further technological development will only bring comfort, growth of domestic tranquility, patriotism and a sense of brotherhood. A better life for everyone, a world of opportunities… Bullshit. Anxiety and alienation became the watch-words of the day, as if material comforts made life worse. Though car navigation system could always offer a plurality of guidance information, he sometimes felt so lost in the empty shadows of skyscrapers and highway interchanges.

It's been a rather hard day – two hearts, three livers and two kidneys. Killing people – that's what it was behind all politically correct terms and legal loopholes – was never this hard for him… and this inevitable at the same time. He almost lost it, almost gave up there, at Metal Graveyard with his overdue heart. But he wasn't going to end up getting himself killed. He needed the fucking job to pay for his fucking heart. Once it's done, he will no longer be a repo man. He didn't seem to have much to live for. His marriage had fallen apart, he was all alone; but he didn't want to leave his son without a father. So he clenched his teeth and kept doing what he was good at – following orders without thinking much. Wasn't it a dog-eat-dog world after all? Not everyone was a killer of course, but every single one had to use others to progress in their life and thus neglect other people's lives in one way or another.

He wasn't trying to justify himself. In fact, he tried not to think at all. It's the thinking that made matters worse.

Anxiety and alienation. Tony Stark was sitting at the bar counter of a nightclub. It was pretty easy to find himself a company among all those glamourous women with their hungry gazes drifting over him. But he was drinking alone. Hanging out all by himself in an unknown city might have been quite unsafe, but today he didn't really care. He left LA for a couple of business meetings happening here, in Toronto, and he was definitely not pleased with all of them. Why in God's name was everyone so fucking eager to tell him what to do?! Ever since he decided that Stark Industries won't produce weapons of any kind, everyone suddenly felt that it's their duty to tell Stark that he is wrong… That didn't really matter of course. What mattered was the fact that now, away from home, he understood that he had no one to return to. Beneath a cool and steady façade of success he could not help but feel the loneliness. He threw some money on the table and walked out, calling a taxi on his cell phone.

Another 10 minutes and Remy was going to be home at last. "Thank God it's Friday_". Waitin_g on a red traffic light, his fingertips tapping on the wheel impatiently, he suddenly heard his organ-scanner beeping in the backseat of his car. "What the…" he muttered taking it out of the bag – it was supposed to be turned off. Something was wrong with the stupid machine, it was beeping like crazy. "RECLAIM". Remy swept his eyes over the street and saw a man in a smart suit waiting on the sidewalk. A car honked behind him because the light had turned green_. _Remy turned right after the lights and stopped by the side of the road and then scanned the man, who was just a few meters away now. "LUNGS". Then there was weird noise and picture distortion for a second, as if there was some kind of interference. "HEART". "RECLAIM".

Well, a _job's_a _job. _This should be quick, there is almost no one on the street. He'll repossess the organ and finally go home. He pulled out the taser.

Stark was standing, his back towards Remy's car. So for Tony, it was just a sudden blackout that knocked him to the ground.

Remy dragged him into his car, laid him on the backseat and started unbuttoning his shirt. "What the fuck is this??..." instead of smooth heart surgery scar on his chest there was some unfamiliar device lighting the car interior with soft blue light.

Tony opened his eyes to find himself lying on a coach. "Thank God, you regained consciousness…" a man sitting on a chair a few steps away from the couch leaned forward to him worryingly.

"What the fuck?! …Where am I?.." Tony managed to level himself to a sitting position. His head was spinning, probably still because of the alcohol, though he knew for sure he hadn't drunk enough to pass out in the middle of the street.

_Requirements and enforcement demands for repossession services. _

_Paragraph 5: A repossession man should be a problem solver. _

_Paragraph 6: A repossession man should be able to calm people and handle irate individuals. _

_Paragraph 7: A repossession man should have great people skills. _

Remy was an excellent repo man.

"You are at my apartment," the man's face was ingenuous and concerned, which made Tony think that it is most likely he is not a kidnapper or something of the kind. "I'm really sorry for the inconvenience… Are you all right?"

Tony rubbed his neck, stretched a bit and said more calmly: "I suppose I am… So what happened? Did I just black out?.."

"Not really. Your… uh, device," Remy looked at Tony's chest, "must have sent wrong identification signal to my scanner, and you were mistaken for… another person". Remy looked most innocent and apologizing, so Stark felt almost relaxed.

"It doesn't really _send_ signals, it just… well, never mind, I know what you mean. Hm, I thought, I've fixed it… So _you _knocked me out?" Tony looked directly into Remy's eyes with a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

"To make it up to you I can give you a ride," Remy stood up from the chair.

"Good," Tony got up too.

"And I'll pay for the cleaning," Remy looked at a stain on Tony's arm – a result of landing on the pavement.

"I don't think it's necessary," said Stark almost smiling. "Since it wasn't really _your_ mistake". Apart from being knocked out, Tony was quite content with the situation. Anyway, Remy seemed a much better companion for the evening than a TV-set and insomnia induced thoughts.

The car parked in front of the entrance of a luxury hotel. Despite the late hour, the street was full of people who were whirled into nervous pulsating rhythm of night city life.

"Thanks for the ride," Tony grinned at Remy rather gratefully. The man looked unnaturally pale and worn out, though with a genuine smile on his face. "Remy, are you okay? You look awful!"

"I'm fine, it'll pass in a moment," he assured through clenched teeth.

"It's the _heart_?"

They had enough time on the way here to tell each other about their lives briefly.

"Yeah, still acts up occasionally…" Remy swallowed hard and gave him a shaky smile.

"You can't drive like this!"

"I'll be all right".

"No, I _insist_ that you have a rest. And you need a coffee, too," Stark was already beckoning a guy to take care of the car parking.

Normally, Remy would not accept such an invitation. So he was somewhat surprised to find himself following Tony into ambient glow of the hotel lobby.

Sitting on a coach in Stark's far-too-spacious-for-just-one-person deluxe suite and drinking hot coffee, Remy thought it was rather weird how he felt about the guy. Was it his taking manners and expansive American smile, or something else? It seemed to Remy that he was beginning to trust him like he was an old friend.

"I've got a few questions 'bout the Union. If you don't mind." Ice cubes clinked in Tony's glass as he sipped his whiskey sitting next to Remy. "They wanted to tie up a contract with Stark Industries and I asked to give me some time to consider 'cause I had a strong feeling that something is not all so nice and shiny in their functional strategy. Well hm… So, basically, what you do for them is kill the least fortunate clients?"

"Yes, basically that's what I do…" Remy shifted uneasily on the couch. Stark, noticing his discomfort, filled another glass with whiskey.

"I'm driving, remember?" Remy protested.

"Frankly, I don't think so." Tony's eyes glistened for a moment beneath his long eyelashes. "It's too late anyway and I think it's quite possible to find you a place in these three rooms, don't you think?"

Remy smiled, taking the glass. "Either I am truly exhausted, or you are a great persuader".

"Probably both," Stark concluded with most humble facial expression. "But still, returning to my question…"

Remy took a few sips and since he was tired and hadn't eaten much the alcohol went straight to his head. Tony was telling him something about his own not-so-saintly past, when mass media had given him a rather unpleasant nickname The Merchant of Death. Oh, whatever. The more people prattled about morality, the more the world showed them how complicated things really were. For some reason, Remy found it hard to concentrate on the words Tony was saying. His gaze flickered from Tony's dark shining eyes to his lips. The next moment, all he knew was that he placed his own lips on Tony's in a deep kiss, tugging at the back of his neck. Tony was shocked. He was caught in the middle of a sentence and instantly forgot what he was actually saying. Just as Remy realized what he was doing, he withdrew himself from Stark. His heart was pounding heavily, his breath was shaky, and his lips twitched as he tried to say something. Stark blinked his eyes as his glass slipped from his fingers and hit the carpeted floor with a quiet thud. And then he grabbed Remy's shirt pulling him backwards to bring his lips back to his own.

That was more than encouraging, so Remy stopped trying to figure out _a reason_. He moved now rather instinctively, and so seemed to be doing Tony. As for him, wasn't Stark the one who was used to get what he wanted, never really caring about reasoning, expenses, or expedience?

In seconds Tony's shirt was unbuttoned by Remy's skillful fingers. And while he was unbuttoning his own Tony kissed him on the neck, licking his repo man's tattoo. He moved lower to the unnaturally smooth scar on his chest. Remy's breath hitched and his hands slid down Tony's back, feeling intense throbbing sensation in his groin. Tony groped him a bit clumsily though his tight jeans, Remy gasped and jerked involuntarily up.

His hands moved to loosen Tony's belt and he whispered as he nipped at his ear lobe.

"You were wrong about your magnet…" (This referred to a silly question he asked in the car).

"Yeah, it _does attract_ metal objects." Stark mumbled into Remy's neck, feeling the metal heart thumping frantically in the other man's chest. He threw his head back with a hoarse moan as Remy's hand gripped him possessively, rubbing his thumb along the underside of his cock. He arched into Remy, hands moving down from his waist into already unzipped jeans, grasping his ass to draw him even closer. Remy took them both in his hand, his breath caught in his throat when his cock rubbed against Tony's. Remy stroked along their lengths, grasping Tony's hair with the other hand and drawing him for a messy kiss. Stark groaned into his mouth uncontrollably. Remy's thumb passed over their tips and both their bodies arched in a rushing wave of heat and pleasure, releasing hot on to Remy's hand.

Tony pressed his forehead against Remy's chest while they were catching their breaths. Then he looked into his blue eyes and said with a smile "I think we need a shower."


End file.
